


A Beautiful Crime

by Llanaa



Series: Game’s of Survival [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne Tries, Bruce Wayne-centric, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slight Body/Psychological Horror, Slow Build, Some Fluff, The bat kids are coming in bulk, Work In Progress, Young Bruce Wayne, don’t worry he’ll get one, for the first half of this story anyway, he is a growing manchild, in a little while though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24908743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llanaa/pseuds/Llanaa
Summary: Crimes of the heart, and the methodical and systematic slaughter of teenage girls, told in three parts.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne & Original Female Character(s), Eventual Bruce Wayne/Original Female Character(s), Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: Game’s of Survival [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802425
Kudos: 4





	A Beautiful Crime

PROLOGUE | WEEK ZERO

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00 | Tuesday

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**THE AIR IS** moist with sweat and smells pungent with perfume.

It’s quiet too, but the beat of music still pluses against her ear drums and through her chest with the muted sound of lyrics accompanying it. Pink lights flash fluorescent beyond the open archway, and the lights upon the mirror in front of her are blindingly bright, her eyes are drooping, slightly red; they sting as she watches crimson drip from her nose, and over her rather ajar mouth, and down her chin, and upon the metal table of the makeshift vanity. She blinks, once.

Twice.

The whites of her teeth are bright with red before she thinks to wipe it away. The euphoria is gone, and she trembles, aches even, feels foreseeably void. She needs to go home; _she wants to go home_. She gets up on feeble legs, unsteady in her stiletto shoes, and she moves to leave.

●▬▬▬▬๑ ༒ ๑▬▬▬▬●

“65 percent.”

The man in front of her makes grabby hands with meaty fingers and the money she’s lost hardly registers as she looks into his wide face and places the bills upon his sweaty palms. She never argues, decided it was useless a long while ago.

He grabs her hand in one of his and pats at it, his jersey drawl is soft when he opens his mouth once more,“Be safe out there.” The blasé of his expression makes her feel uneasy, she shifts on her feet.

“Yeah, of course,” She’s pulling away and putting her leftover bills in her tote as she speaks. She turns, wipes her hand across the fur of her coat and wiggles her toes in her shoes as she walks, her feet throb with soreness; she wishes that she hadn’t lost her ruby red flats.

Later, as she walks though Fort Clinton, wet from rain and with a cigarette between her lips, her mouth still tastes of metallic. She concentrates on the gentle pitter patter of it, the rain, and the soft padding of her bare feet against the wet concrete; she now holds her shoes between her fists. Her toes are cold, the numbness helps with the pain.

  
“Hey,”

  
Her mouth slightly ajar, she turns to stare into the Honda that trails after her along the street, and as the cigarette drops from her teeth, she thinks that it’s just a shame that she hadn’t noticed the rumble of the engine. The man’s face is covered by shadow and the rain is getting harder. It seems that the night is getting colder and harsher, too. Perhaps it was the flicker of the street lights. _She wants to go home_. “Hello.”

“Need a ride? Walking alone seems kind of vacuous in this part of the city. This late—or early—that is.” She can see the white flash of his perfect grin on the badly lit road, and imagines his mouth wrinkling as he smiles.   
The odd burr of his voice perturbs her and she notices at once that he is not from here and her heart feels tight as it is compressed by trepidation. “Oh no, no thank you.” She doesn’t wait for his response and takes off promptly, she decides to take her chances in the alleyways; at least they are filled with demons she knows. Distantly, she hears him call after her.

He says that he likes her shoes.

When Penelope Garcia is upon her apartment building in the east side of the Narrows the relief that thrums through her body feels like victory, but she pauses; as right there, illuminated by the flickering porch lights, is the gleam of one of her ruby red shoes. She frowns, she must’ve dropped them on her way to work. _Where’s the other one?_ She turns, searching, and her breath stutters as she faces the intricate, upturned sole of her shoe in the dirt on the paleness that has the likeness of a foot, and inhales the fetid smell that seems to come with it. It is then that the victory fades and the dread begins again, she hopes it’s the drugs.

●▬▬▬▬๑ ༒ ๑▬▬▬▬●  
  


_On October 16, 2007, at approximately 2:18 a.m., Penelope Garcia finds the corpse of her kid sister, Leilani Garcia upon the steps of their shared apartment in the Narrows._

_At 2;20 am the Gotham City Police Department dispatch receives a call in regards to a dead body at the Linseed Square on 1897 Tetra Lane from what is said to be a neighbor, who first reported screaming(they have yet to identify themselves). GCPD unit 107 was dispatched, they arrived at the scene at 5: 15 a.m_


End file.
